Detroit
by WhoDidn'tKillBambi
Summary: One Shot. The Gorillaz are halfway through their 2010 US tour and have landed in Detroit, Michigan. When 2D gets the rare opportunity to have a bit of freedom, he heads off for a nice walk. However, the dreary city and unpleasant weather just seem to remind him of everything he's lost.


**Title: Detroit**

**Summary: **One Shot. The Gorillaz are halfway through their 2010 US tour and have landed in Detroit, Michigan. When 2D gets the rare opportunity to have a bit of freedom, he heads off for a nice walk. However, the dreary city and unpleasant weather just seem to remind him of everything he's lost.

**Note:** This is just a one-off little thing that I came up with to get my feet wet. It has been years since I have written anything, let alone fanfic. This is a stand-alone, though it may later tie into a multi-chaptered fic that I'm currently working on. I just don't want to post the first chapter too early, at least until I have a good portion of the fic done. Also, I chose to place this in Detroit because, well...I used to live there. And you know what they always say: write what you know. Also, something about the city reminds me of Gorillaz at times. There are a lot of layers to it that most people never get the chance to see. I guess in a very mild way, I'm using Detroit a giant metaphore for 2D's feelings while on tour. I hope it works and isn't too pretentious. So...yeah. Please let me know what you guys think!

Also, there is a dreaded OC in this. Terribly sorry. But I promise he's not a MarySue. He doesn't get involved with anyone and he is not to become a regular character. He's just a catylist for moving the plot along. I just wanted to say that before you got to him and immediately cringed away, haha.

**Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of the band ****_Gorillaz_**** nor any characters formed within. They belong to Jamie Hewlett and Damon Albarn, respectively. I also do not own the rights to ****_iPod_****, ****_28 Days Later, Napolean Dynamite, Twilight, _****the ****_Detroit Westin Book Cadillac Hotel_****, ****_Lafeyette Coney Island_****, or ****_The Fox Theatre Detroit_****. All additional characters are fictitious and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental, with the exception of a short mention of Damon as a key plot point. It was kind of impossible to avoid without clunking up the whole thing. I sincerely hope he doesn't mind. Did I forget anything?**

* * *

**Detroit**

Detroit was a hauntingly beautiful city at night. Former mansions and successful business seemed to crumble in the skyline, blanketing the streets in a shadowy cloak. There was a sense of death in the air, of danger and depression. But beneathe that there was a lingering breath of hope.

2D let out a heavy sigh as he sat his iPad on the floor. They had just returned from a sold-out concert at The Fox Theatre and his ears were still buzzing from the sound system. Normally the singer would be elated after such a show, but that wasn't the case this time.

That imposter band had stollen another gig from them. Murdoc had been furious, breaking several things in the green room and punching a security guard in the face. 2D didn't really mind all that much. Damon and his crew performed decent covers and they always put on one hell of a show. Sure, 2D would have preferred to be on that stage himself, but at the end of the day he was just happy to be off that miserable island.

"Oi, Faceache!" Murdoc's greasy face was suddenly poking through his hotel door. "I'm gonna run out for some...evening entertainment. I'm leaving the Cyborg here, so if you try and leg it you're dead."

The singer didn't even try to protest as Murdoc roughly shoved the Cyborg inside and slammed the door. 2D briefly wondered what sort of bastardly things the bassist would be up to, but quickly decided that he'd rather not know. Absentmindedly scratching his nose, he looked over to his new guest. The Cyborg still stood by the door, assault rifle poised and ready to shoot.

"Erm...gonna' come in, then?"

Her head instantly snapped in his direction and she stared down as if processing a response. 2D hated those eyes. They were so cold and mechanical but there was some sort of spark behind them. He liked to pretend that it was a small glimmer of the real Noodle's soul trying to reach out to him through her stollen DNA. Even the slightested reminder of their lost guitarist brought a hollow feeling to 2D's chest.

The sound of a chair squeeking snapped him to attention. The Cyborg has obviously decided to make herself comfortable. She was sprawled with one leg hanging loosely over the arm of the chair, her military-style short-shorts riding up a bit too high. 2D cleared his throat and looked away.

That was another thing 2D hated. Noodle would never be so...promiscuous.

"How about a movie, eh?"

The Cyborg suddenly shot upright, something close to excitement on her face. "_Twilight_?!"

2D groaned and reached for his iPad. "I don't know, luv, can't we watch something a little less..." he paused, tapping his chin in thought. "...horrible?"

Before he could even blink, 2D felt the all too familiar pressure of a cold steel barrel against his temple. He instantly threw his hands up in surrender. "A-Alright, alright! _Twlight_ it is!"

2D sighed as the gun was removed. He took a fearful glance at the Cyborg to see that she was already comfortable again in the chair. Talk about mood-swings.

2D expertly hooked his iPad up to the TV and stretched back on his bed. Silence filled the room as the opening credits began to roll and the singer found himself staring out the window rather than at the screen. The rain had slowed to a lazy patter against his window. It was easy to get lost in such a rhythmic beat.

Twenty minutes went by when he felt his eyelids begin to droop. It was way too early for sleep, so he sat up and stretched his stiff limbs. The Cyborg was still glued to the TV, not seeming to register his movement.

He eyed the screen skeptically, wondering what in the hell she saw in that retched movie. Perhaps Murdoc had programmed her wrong, afterall. 2D never considered himself to be much of a judge of films (afterall his favorite movie was _Napolian Dynamite_) but even he couldn't piece together how _Twilight_ had become so popular.

"So..." he started, trying to break the silence between them. The Android still didn't look away from the screen. "What did you think of that show tonight?"

"Operating System Aquired New Target: Damon Albarn. To be annihilated for plaigerism and general douchebaggery." A programed response answered, but it was clear that her attention was still on the movie.

2D cleared his throat nervously. "I don't really think all that is neccissary, luv..."

"Orders have been set. Vocal over-ride denied."

The singer sighed, sometimes there was just no use making conversation with that thing. There were times when the Cyborg was actually quite literate - she and 2D would sit for hours in his room on Plastic Beach and discuss such great things as different rifle loading tactics. While he really didn't know anything about weaponry, nor did he care to learn, 2D was still grateful for a bit of company.

Scanning the small hotel room for something to keep his mind occupied, the singer spotted an empty ice tin lying on the bathroom counter. Maybe a short walk down the hall would help clear his mind.

"Say, erm..." 2D was always confused on how to address the mechanical guitarist. Murdoc seemed to have zero qualms about calling it 'Noodle,' but it never quite felt right using her name. "I thik I'm gonna' pop on down to the lobby for a bit, yeah? Do you, ah, do you wanna' come with?"

The question fell on deaf ears as the Cyborg refused to respond this time. After an anxious moment, 2D tried again. Still nothing. He took this as his chance to move and slowly stood from the bed with a loud pop of stiff joints.

"A-Alright then, I'm leaving now." he gulped nervously, eyeing the discarded machine gun on the floor. The Cyborg made no attempt to stop him, it appeared she hadn't even registered his movement, so he quickly opened the door and stepped into the brightly lit hallway.

2D stood frozen outside of room 32F. Any second now the Cyborg was going to burst though that door and shoot him in the foot. It wouldn't have been the first time. Several heated minutes passed before he finally decided that, perhaps just this once, he could just walk away.

He glanced over his shoulder once, thankful that Murdoc had rented out the entire top floor at _The Westin_, before slinking off toward the elevator. While the privacy was nice, 2D kindof wished there were other people around. Besides Murdoc and the Cyborg, he hadn't talked to a single soul since leaving Plastic Beach. Even though he was now free from that horrible island and that sodding whale, he was still very much a prisoner.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he stepped into the elevator and mindlessly pressed the button for the ground floor. The cramped space on the lift reminded 2D of the one back at Kong. He missed his old home; things were so much more simpler then. When he had heard that Murdoc had burned the old studio to the ground for the insurance money, 2D nearly had a nervous-breakdown. That knackered old building had been the last standing reminder of his family. For the bassist to torch the place without so much as a second thought made 2D's blood boil and his stomache churn. To think, at one point he had trusted his life to that man.

Ever since the gassing in Beirut, 2D had noticed a shift in the bassist's personality. Sure, the satanist had always been a shady trouble maker, but somethig had definitely changed. 2D had heard rumors of bad weapons deals and money owed to some less that reputable sources, but he had never been one to follow the tabloids. One thing was clear though, whatever had happened since Kong had caused Murdoc to crack.

It would hardly be a stretch to say that 2D didn't even know his best friend any more. His days on Plastic Beach had been spent confined to that small under-water room, only being allowed to venture topside to record and little else. It was an entire month after his initial arrival before he had seen Murdoc at all, and that was probably the most terrifying part of the whole experience. He had awoken briefly on the beach, still groggy from the gas, when someone had promtly knocked him unconscious. He later discovered it had been the Cyborg, but for weeks 2D sat in his room petrified that somebody was going to murder him.

2D shook the negative memories from his mind as the elevator doors swung open into the main lobby. For a Saturday night, the hotel was fairly empty. Only a handful of people shuffled about, and in the far corner some were crouded around an American football game on TV. 2D took one last glance at the eleveators, half expecting the Cyborg to magically appear and drag him back upstairs.

A wave of anxiety crashed over the singer as the doors finally closed and he realized he had no idea where to go. This was the first time he had been without direct supervision in _years _and that thought terrified him. Now was his chance; he could walk right out that door and never come back. He could be a free man once more.

Or he could just go out for a quick bite and tail it back to the room before Murdoc returned. That seemed to be the most logical thing to do. There wasn't much point in running away, in 2D's mind. Murdoc would just track him down again like he had in Texas.

Deciding that being quick was detrimental to his being alive, 2D took the first strides toward the revolving doors with confidence.

The brisk October air hit him like a slap to the face, making 2D wish he had stopped for a moment to grab a warmer jacket. What little trees scattered the landscape had littered a fine dusting of dead leaves across the sidewalk and brought the distinct scent of autumn to his nose. It was a pleasant reminder of the days before the island.

There were very few people on the streets, something he wasn't quite accustomed to in a larger city such as this. It almost reminded 2D of the opening sceens in _28 Days Later _when Jim first stumbled out into the barren wasteland that was London. To any normal person this would have been at least mildly upsetting, but to the singer it was almost a relief. After so many years of being alone, he wasn't sure he could properly handle being around a lot of people.

Directly across the street from the hotel was a chain of small resteraunts, two of them proclaiming in bright letters that they were both the home of the Coney Island. 2D's stomach gave an instinctual rumble as the smell of fried foods wafted to his nose and he decided that stopping in for a quick bite wouldn't hurt things. He quickly lit up a cigarette, as if the small flame would somehow combat the cold that was nipping at his bones, and made his way across the street.

"Hey man, you got a dollar you can spare?" A voice stopped him before he could reach the door.

2D glanced at the man, who was clearly no stranger to the harsh world of the streets. Without a second thought, he rummaged in his pockets for a few dollars but only came up with a ten dollar bill. "Sorry, mate. I'm a bit strapped for cash right now, but if you'd like I can get you a bite or somefink?"

"I didn't ask you for food, I asked you for money," the man grumbled bitterly. "C'mon man, you gotta have something you can give me."

Clearly the man was looking for the kind of thrill that 2D just couldn't provide. With an apologetic shake of his head, he stubbed out his cigarette and walked inside. Through the glass doors he saw the man immediately approach another person to try again. A pang of guilt scratched at 2D's heart for a second, but years of experience had taught him that not everyone can be helped.

For a Saturday night the resteraunt was surprisingly vacant. 2D felt a bit cramped in the small building, having to turn sideways just to squeez past the bar and find a seat at the end. Almost instantly a short Greek man appeared before him, asking for his drink order. Asking for a cup of coffee, he scanned the table for a menu but couldn't find one.

"Uhm, excuse me, sir," he asked. "Can I get a menu?"

"Menu? Oh, we don't have any of those." He pointed behind him to a small peg board with only a few items on it. "Everything we have is up there, though."

"Ah, well thanks, I guess," he chuckled, not really used to that sort of thing. His eyes scanned the board hungrily, but very few items were recognizable to him. After a confusing moment, he turned to the one patron beside him – a young man in his early twenties who was also sipping on a cup of coffee. "What's a Coney Dog?"

"What's a Coney Dog?" he repeated, as if it were the most bizarre question ever. "You mean to say you've never had one? Where are you from?"

"Uhm, England, actually. We don't really have those over there."

"Wow, you guys are missing out!" he grinned. Without invitation, the man jumped the two stools between them and planted himself next to 2D. "It's like your standard hot dog, but they smother it with chili, cheese, onions and mustard. It's pretty much the most delicious thing you'll ever eat, and this is the best place to get one. They invented them, ya'know."

Chili on a hot dog? It didn't sound too appealing to the singer, but at this point he was so hungry he'd try anything. After he had woken up on Plastic Beach, he was forced to abandon his vegetarian diet. Murdoc had his meals delivered to him every day and 2D was never fortunate enough to decide for himself what he wanted to eat. A part of him couldn't help but feel as though the bassist had intentionally sent him meat every evening as another form of psychological control.

"I guess I'll have one of those, then." 2D grinned broadly. He quickly flagged down the cook (who also seemed to be doubling as the waiter) and made his order. Without writing it down, he shouted the order to the back room and walked away.

"I'm Mike," the guy next to him stuck out his hand.

"Stu," he replied after a minute. '2D' was a pretty unique name, he figured, and it was best to try and keep a low profile. So far it seemed like this guy didn't recognize him, which was definitely a good thing.

"What brings you to the States?"

2D thought for a moment. He hated talking about himself; it just made everything feel like an interview, a feeling he was all too familiar with. Realizing he hadn't answered yet, he quickly lied, "Just visiting family, s'all."

"Ah, that's cool." Mike leaned back as best he could in the stool. "Sucks you had to come to Detroit, though."

"I kinda' like it, actually," 2D grinned. "Sure beats being cooped up at home."

The short Greek man appeared again, a sloppy Coney Dog placed in the table before him. 2D eyed the dog warrily. He couldn't even see the bun underneath all of the chili. "How exactly am I supposed to eat this thing?"

"Well, you could just scoop it up and mow down," Mike laughed. "But usually most people just use a fork."

2D gulped and unwrapped the silverware to his left. A little experimenting never killed anyone, right? Using the fork to saw through one end of the dog, he took a big whiff before shoving it in his mouth. And that's when the world stopped moving.

"Fis ish amazin'!" he moaned around a full mouth. In only a few seconds he had devoured the entire plate.

"I told you, man. Make sure you tell your friends back home," Mike chuckled. "I personally believe that everyone in the world should get to try something so wonderful."

"My friend Russell would love these," 2D grinned. It was a bittersweet smile that Mike thankfully didn't pick up on.

Mike clapped him on the back in a friendly manner, the force pushing 2D's skinny frame forward swiftly. "Well man, it was nice meeting you but I'm off. Enjoy your stay in town!"

2D shook his hand once more and thanked him again for the food suggestion before watching him walk out the door and out of his life. It was those little passing moments that 2D had really missed. As brief as they were, they always had a way of grounding him to the earth.

The past few years had certainly laid a toll on the singer. Being so disconnected from the outside world had somehow disconnected him from himself. For a long time he felt like he was simply drifting around in some sort of purgatory, not really dead but not fully alive either. His mind, ever the blank slate that it was, seemed to have permanently drifted off and 2D found it difficult to track it back down. His thoughts were scattered and fleeting and somehow that terrified him. It felt almost as if he were losing his grip on reality.

It was easier to stay connected back at Kong. There was always so much going on. If it wasn't Murdoc causing chaos, it was Russell banging away with one of his taxidermy projects. The two men were always making some sort of ruckas. And of course, there was always Noodle.

The young guitarist was the heart of their small family. If it wasn't for her 2D was sure that his life would have turned out dramatically different. A bittersweet smile crept onto his lips as he thuoght of the young girl. Wherever she was, 2D hoped she was happy.

Without paying it too much attention, he tossed his only ten dollars on the table and rose to his feet. He was almost to the door when the waiter yelled out to him.

"Sir! You forgot your change!"

2D turned quickly, "How much is it?"

The man counted out the total at the till before responding, "Eight dollars."

2D glanced back out the door. The homeless man from earlier was still standing outside, hand stretched out to an older couple walking passed. "Go take that man outside some food, if you don't mind."

Before the waiter could protest the singer had turned and exited the building. He could see his hotel towering above him from where he stood, the large 'W' moniker beckoning him back inside and to safety. The night was young and although 2D would normally be just starting out, he figured it would probably best to head in. He had no idea what time Murdoc intended to be home and didn't want to risk pissing the demon off.

He sighed as he pulled another cigarette out of his pocket. He missed being able to party deep into the night. He missed having his freedom. But as far as the singer was concerned, this was the best he was going to get.

By the time he reached his room, 2D's nose was red and running. He sniffled once before reaching for the door handle, suddenly realizing that he did not have a key. Murdoc would never trust him with such a thing, and for good reason. He put his ear to the door, hoping to hear the Cyborg inside still enjoying her movie, but was met only with silence.

"Great, this probably isn't going to end well," he muttered bitterly. A timid hand reached up and knocked twice on the door.

The door flew open and before 2D could step back there was an assault rifle pointed at his face. The Cyborg stared at him, as though deciding whether or not to pull the trigger.

"E-Ey! I've been looking for you everywhere, luv!" 2D quickly spat, his mind racing as he stared down the barrel of the gun, literally. The last thing he wanted was a trip to the hospital tonight. "Why didn't you meet me downstairs?"

The android was clearly trying to decipher his lie, but her operating system seemed unable to. Her head cocked slightly to the right as she lowered the weapon a fraction of an inch. "I do not comprehend the question you are asking."

"Remember? You, uh, you and me were 'sposed to go check out the lobby!" It almost worried him how well he was becoming at telling lies. Hopefully the Cyborg would buy it.

"Prisoner 2D is not to leave hotel room 32F for any reason." She repeated her commands. "Direct violation of orders has occurred."

"No, no, no," 2D quickly stopped her. "Of course not! Not without your supervision, that is. But, ah, you were 'sposed to be there, right? Listen, I won't tell Muds you screwed up, don't worry about it."

A heated moment passed between them before the rifle was finally lowered. Although there was no longer a gun pointed at his face, 2D could feel the defensiveness in the android's stance. Such a good little soldier. It looked like he had dodged a bullet this time, so to speak.

"How was your movie?" he tried to change the subject as he squeezed passed her and closed the door.

"Play it again."

There was no question in her voice. With a final sigh for the night, 2D replayed the movie and made his way to bed. Hopefully Murdoc would be back soon to take her to charge. 2D rolled over on the queen bed and once more faced the window, happy that the rain had finally stopped. He reflected back to the Coney Dog and wondered what other secrets the city held, but the thought was gone as soon as it had arrived.

Tomorrow morning they would be heading out for Toronto and leaving the city behind. Maybe that show would go better than the one earlier that night, but it didn't seem too likely. 2D smiled as he pictured Murdoc's pissed off face. At least he was garunteed to have some entertainment.

* * *

**Ending Note: **Okay, not too sure how I feel about this. I don't like the way it was written, it feels too rushed to me. I did crap it out in like three days, though…so that might be why. I guess it doesn't really serve much of a purpose, there really isn't much of a plot here. But then again, it's not a story. More of…a small glimpse in time, I guess? I'm still getting my proverbial feet wet here, so give me a break!

And before anyone gets confused, I'd like to point something out. A lot of people take the videos for cannon. What I mean by this is using _El Manana_ and others as key plot-points in the Gorillaz-verse. I'm doing the same here with the video for _Stylo_. In this written universe (the oneshot here and the soon-to-be-posted full collaboration) that video was also a plot point and not just a fun music video. Without giving too much away, I will say that at one point right after Plastic Beach was recorded, 2D decided to leg it and hitched a ride to Texas. Murdoc wasn't too pleased and had to go track him down. As for Bruce...well you'll just have to wait to find out about that. If that upsets you in any way, or makes things hard to follow for now, I'm sorry. Hopefully it'll all tie together soon enough.

Also, Coney Dogs are kind of a Michigan staple. They're literally everywhere. And the place mentioned here, _Lafyette_, is one of the best places to go for one. I was surprised the first time I traveled out of the state, to find that they don't really have them in a lot of places. So I just thought it would be interesting to get to write about that. If you've never had one and you get the chance, I highly recommend it. Probably not too great for your health, but definitely amazing for the soul haha.

Well, if you made it this far please leave a review! Positive or negative, it'll encourage me to write more xD Take care!


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